


The Leitner Retrieval: Bouchard Family Dinner

by Shaeydyrllah



Series: The Crack Archives [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 160 spoilers, Both of them hate socialising, Bouchard Family Dinner, Crack, Elias forces Peter to come with him, Humour, Jonah 'body hopping' Magnus meets the Bouchard family, LonelyEyes, M/M, Romance?, Season 4 Spoilers, The Eye, The Lonely - Freeform, beholding powers, fun fun Leitner retrieval time, mention of weed, mostly sarcasm and spite, no one dies but a Leitner is involved with usual creepy effects, suprisingly fluffy, vague allusions to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaeydyrllah/pseuds/Shaeydyrllah
Summary: “This is my significant other, Peter Lukas. Say hello Peter.” Elias squeezed Peter’s hand menacingly.“As lovely as it is to meet you, I’m afraid I can’t stay, I have a work thing.” Peter paused, he locked eyes with Mrs Bouchard and stated with all seriousness: “My ship tragically sunk in my absence.”If Elias wasn’t so focused on restraining the urge to strangle Peter he might have marvelled at how quickly tears threatened to burst out of the corners of his ‘mother’s’ eyes. “Oh, that’s absolutely awful.” She whispered horror-struck.Elias gently grabbed at Peter’s shoulders in a poor facsimile of a hug but given Peter’s height difference it looked more like Elias was trying to drag him down to the ground. “Yes, it was terrible. That’s why Peter is spending time with me, to take his mind off that horrible business.” Elias’s smile promised excruciating torture if Peter did anything but nod his head in acquiescence.In which hunting a Leitner leads to Elias and Peter attending the Bouchard Family's Christmas dinner.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Series: The Crack Archives [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636318
Comments: 20
Kudos: 212





	The Leitner Retrieval: Bouchard Family Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the wonderful Inattentiveinsomniac who came up with the idea for this fic, I hope this was okay XD

Upon seeing Gertrude marching down the hallway with mischievous amusement and malice clinging to the corners of her mind like cobwebs, Elias was compelled to dart through the side door to Artefact Storage. He was not afraid of Gertrude Robinson. He merely had a healthy respect for her that occasionally made him want to cry in her presence like a chastised child.

He collected himself behind the stuffy shelf containing what was supposedly a haunted TV remote; he knew it was actually Maxwell Rayner’s fault that there was a remote that could kill the lighting on any electrical appliance but it was more amusing to listen to Rosie speculate about how old Mr Kris keeps turning off the Great British Bake Off from beyond the grave.

Gertrude Robinson concerned him. Despite tangling with many an entity she was seldom marked by them in any significant way. Elias wondered whether he should stop replacing her archival staff, The Eye did get rather testy about its followers being sacrificed. He’d had a headache for a week when Gertrude’s assistant ‘accidentally fell’ and died in Sannikov Land; it was all very inconvenient.

Alas, he could not run forever. Her quarterly review was scheduled for 13:30, he could hardly deviate from the pre-designated time.

~0~

“I heard an interesting rumour two days ago.” Gertrude took a sip out of a silver flask engraved with ornate roses and skulls.

Elias’s left eye twitched, Gertrude may not be aware of the extent of how vital the role of Archivist was to his plans but she knew that Elias wouldn’t fire her. She maintained eye contact while draining the flask, sipping it daintily as one would from a teacup.

Elias steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair preparing for the worse. The last interesting rumour Gertrude heard resulted in him arranging the unfortunate demises of several co-workers and burning his favourite tie.

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow.

An ugly little smirk flashed across her boringly beige lipstick-stained mouth. “Yes, I heard that the Bouchard family was in possession of a Leitner.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with myself.” He responded coolly, “I’d suggest you send one of your assistants to retrieve it but you seem to be sorely lacking in that department.”

She pressed her lips into a firm line for a second before her face softened into something sickeningly and incongruously kind. “I merely thought that you would relish an opportunity to see your family, _Elias_.”

Elias saw flickers of paintings and documents flash and fade like dying stars from Gertrude’s mind as she attempted to consciously suppress thinking about them.

“Such a shame about that degree of yours, but I’m sure your family would embrace you with open arms if you returned home and happened to collect a certain book while you were there.”

Gertrude certainly had no moral qualms about breaking into the house of an elderly couple, suggesting that he should go instead given the context of the situation was unfortunately logical.

“We don’t exactly get along. I’ve changed a lot since we last saw one another.” He caught the glow of recognition in Gertrude’s eyes as she caught his underlying meaning.

“How unfortunate. I rather preferred the old you.” She replied meaningfully.

~0~0~

“Why am I here?” This was the fifth time that Peter had asked Elias this question.

Elias gritted his teeth. “I’m introducing my parents to my boyfriend.”

Peter grimaced at the juvenile term and scratched at his greying beard thoughtfully, “I thought it was your husband.”

The head of The Institute sniffed disdainfully while drawing ever closer to the brightly painted porch decorated with the tiny fairy lights. “You forget what happened at Annabelle’s last gathering.”

“Ah yes, the porcelain ballerina.” Peter’s eyes scanned their surroundings, noting that several cars were parked outside of the large detached manor house. He eyed the building with trepidation; his eyes lingered on the Yule wreath and tinsel strewn haphazardly around the door. “It still wasn’t my fault.”

Elias feigned a friendly smile, “Of course not, that’s why I’m inviting you to a Christmas party.”

The sound of static started to build in Elias’s ears as Peter’s form grew hazy and the edges defining him from his surroundings started to blur. He roughly grasped Peter’s hand, his mind battered against Peter’s, which was rapidly growing more indistinct until he lovingly wedged in memories of the more pleasant times they had spent together. Unable to cut himself off from Elias’s onslaught Peter found himself miserably grounded by his boyfriend’s side and definitively not in the safe refuge of The Lonely.

Elias tightened his grip on Peter and pulled him along the final dreaded steps to the front door. With his free hand, Elias pressed the buzzer and smirked at Peter’s discomfort.

A woman in her eighties with unfortunate pink hair stared at Elias in disbelief for a long moment. She stepped forward to embrace him; Elias choked on the pungent scent of lavender perfume and attempted to return the embrace while keeping a grip on Peter.

“Oh, Li-Li, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Li-Li?” Peter echoed, a nasty grin wiped away his sombre attitude. Elias shot him a look that was supposed to convey the sense of a billion agonising deaths but came across as pained.

She turned to Peter inquisitively before looking back at Elias, “Who’s this, dear?”

“This is my significant other, Peter Lukas. Say hello Peter.” Elias squeezed Peter’s hand menacingly.

“As lovely as it is to meet you, I’m afraid I can’t stay, I have a work thing.” Peter paused, he locked eyes with Mrs Bouchard and stated with all seriousness: “My ship tragically sunk in my absence.”

If Elias wasn’t so focused on restraining the urge to strangle Peter he might have marvelled at how quickly tears threatened to burst out of the corners of his ‘mother’s’ eyes. “Oh, that’s absolutely awful.” She whispered horror-struck.

Elias gently grabbed at Peter’s shoulders in a poor facsimile of a hug but given Peter’s height difference it looked more like Elias was trying to drag him down to the ground. “Yes, it was terrible. That’s why Peter is spending time with me, to take his mind off that horrible business.” Elias’s smile promised excruciating torture if Peter did anything but nod his head in acquiescence. “I think getting out and mingling with others will be a big help.”

“You poor thing.” She patted Peter’s back, or more accurately the part of his back still visible between Elias’s full-body grip on him. “You both better come inside, everyone will be so happy to see you.”

~0~0~0~

After several long moments of dull conversation with the Bouchard’s guests, they all gathered around the dining room table. If Elias had to listen once more to Mrs Hargreaves tell him the best way to grow begonias he would feed her to The Distortion that occasionally occupied his supply closet. The only saving grace was that Peter looked even more nauseated by the forced interaction and the ‘comforting weight’ of his boyfriend guiding him around the room.

As expected the dining room was rather opulent, with origami fashioned napkins in what Elias assumed was a swan but might have been a deformed anteater. The whole affair was rather unnecessary; as soon as he found the book he could leave.

His ‘father’ glowered at him from the head of the table, for a man of eighty-seven Bouchard Sr appeared to be in his early fifties, with his wealth it wasn’t unlikely that he’d found a competent plastic surgeon. His eyes kept darting to Peter and back to Elias questioningly.

“It’s so nice that we could all be together as a family,” chimed Mrs Bouchard. She nudged her husband sharply, whose expression flickered into a scowl momentarily.

“It has been some time since we saw one another.” His voice rang with distaste. “It is so lovely that you brought a ‘guest’”

“I’m glad you agree,” Elias replied sharply.

The patriarch gave Peter a once-over and sighed heavily. “We were ecstatic to hear from you, son.” His fingers tapped irritably on the table, the sound was dulled by the thick cream table cloth, an unfortunate colour with the amount of gravy being spilt by his parent’s other guest, Mr Rudgelow. “We are of course very proud of your elevated position within your research institute.” He hesitated, “We’d just hoped you’d outgrown your old habits.”

Given Mr Bouchard’s not-so-subtle glances at Peter, it wasn’t difficult to discern what he was alluding to.

Elias sneered at him, “My preferences are my own.”

Mr Bouchard flushed an unhealthy shade of red, “I don’t care that he’s a man. I care that he looks like he’s twenty years older than you!”

 _Oh._ Perhaps if Elias was willing to debase himself by venturing into these insipid minds around him, he’d be less likely to jump to incorrect conclusions. Age had never been a salient factor to him, aside from general aesthetics; after all, he was far older than the body he inhabited. Nevertheless, Peter wasn’t that much older; he just bore his age less gracefully than Elias. He narrowed his eyes at Mr Bouchard. “What concern is it of yours?”

Mr Bouchard’s eyes widened and he tried to soften his expression. “If you’re in need of money...”

“I do not understand.”

The young man opposite him started to splutter with laughter. “He thinks Pete’s your sugar daddy. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Jeremiah.” Elias reprimanded, retrieving the name of his ‘brother’ from his scandalised mother, “That was uncalled for.”

“But not inaccurate,” Peter muttered under his breath.

The younger man gave Elias an odd look, “It’s Jez, whatever. You’re acting real weird bro.”

“I quite understand.” Peter jumped in, his eyes flashed with sudden insight. “I’ll leave and cease all contact with your son, don’t you worry.” He attempted to leap to his feet but was unfortunately bested once again by Elias’ strong grip and was yanked back down to his seat.

Elias locked eyes with his boyfriend. “Now Peter, we won’t let a little bit of disapproval stand in the way of our love.”

Mrs Bouchard let out a squeal of delight, “Is it true, are you in love with my son?”

Peter rolled his eyes dramatically. “He has his moments.”

Mrs Bouchard frowned at Peter disapprovingly. Shaking her head she called for the next course of dinner and swept the whole argument under the carpet. It was more than the worth of Elias’s sanity to open his mind to the incessant chatter of those around him. It didn’t take his Beholding abilities to perceive the unsubtle glances Mr Bouchard shot towards Candace Mayfair and the daggers that Mrs Bouchard shot at them both before smiling as if there wasn’t a problem in the world. He was not getting involved in that.

~0~0~0~0~

Peter stood in a corner of the hallway and gazed longingly at the door; after being reminded by Elias that he owed him a favour, he had little choice but to stay put as Elias snuck off to investigate the library upstairs for any suspicious-looking books. He took out his pipe and began to smoke; the billowing smoke’s temporary obscuration of his face was somewhat comforting.

Jeremiah, the unpleasant young man who had introduced himself as Elias’s younger brother, turned out to be even more insufferable than Elias. As soon as Elias had left him alone, Jeremiah had sidled up to him and made a number of unfortunate comments.

“So, ‘Lias really grew up to be a real stick in the mud.” He grinned fondly, “He used to know how to party. You look like a man that enjoys some fun.”

Peter blinked in momentary confusion. “What gave you that impression?”

Jeremiah smirked; his eyes traced Peter’s form clad in a well-fitted long navy blue coat. “We could have some fun together.”

“I don’t think anyone could quite measure up to Elias,” Peter responded after a moment, his tone was oddly cheerful.

“I could teach you things about yourself that you were completely unaware of.” He continued flirtatiously.

Peter laughed loudly, startling Jeremiah. “I sincerely doubt it; no one is a bigger know-it-all than Elias.” He turned and gave Jeremiah a smile of his own, far too sharp and threatening. “As much as I have delighted in your company, I think we could both use some alone time.” He drew in a large puff of smoke from his pipe and blew it at the younger man who started to cough uproariously. 

Jeremiah staggered backwards as the smoke refused to dissipate; he twisted and turned in what was now thick fog rolling over him in waves. Jeremiah didn’t leave the fog.

~0~0~0~0~0~

It wasn’t too difficult for Elias to slip away. Despite the vow he made to himself, not to sully his mind with the thoughts of dull housewives and miserly old-men he did have a unique opportunity to create a distraction. Who knew that telling Doris Meadows that Deidre Saunders had passed off her lemon tart recipe as her own would incite a fistfight.

Mr Bouchard was now exceedingly eager to leave him alone after he caught him snogging Candace under the mistletoe, he carried a spring of mistletoe around with him which he sprung on his maid frequently to Elias’s dismay. What she saw in him, Elias couldn’t fathom.

For a wealthy family, there were disappointingly few books, the family’s laziness in acquiring knowledge was an unforgivable offence. The large shelves were sparsely filled and even more dusty than Gertrude’s basement.

Wandering away from the shelves Elias opened the old yellow side door, next to the furthest bookcase; looking at it made his head tingle which was incentive enough to pursue the supposed existence of the book in that direction.

The door creaked openly loudly and Elias jumped back when a familiar head of blonde curls poked out.

“Pupil-of-The-Eye.” It addressed him with a feral grin.

“Not today Michael.” He slammed the door in The Distortion’s face and continued his search. It was annoying that the very nature of The Spiral made it difficult to retain a wariness concerning opening suspicious yellow doors.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Unfortunately, Mrs Bouchard found him lurking upstairs. Elias let out an angry huff of breath as she sobbed into his rather expensive suit jacket.

“I know they made eyes at each other, but I didn’t think my Mark would actually...” She trailed off miserably, smearing mascara on him.

Patting her awkwardly, “There there, I’m sure you’ll orchestrate an exquisite plan of vengeance upon him.” Her watery eyes grew large with shock and she pulled away from him. “Or whatever normal people want out of life.” He amended.

She laughed uncomfortably, “You’ve always had an odd sense of humour Li-Li.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully while regarding him. “You are happy aren’t you? I know we protested your use of recreational ‘substances’ but I don’t know...” She frowned, “We didn’t want to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Elias replied quietly, at a loss for how to deal with the mother of his current host. “I just know what I want from life.”

Elias tried to shoot pleading looks across the room at Peter who was exiting the conservatory. Upon seeing Elias’s bid for help he abruptly changed direction and re-entered the room.

“I should...” He gestured in the direction of his traitorous lover.

Mrs Bouchard arched an eyebrow, it was difficult to look intimidating with half of a Boots counter dripping down your face. “We’re having a serious conversation Elias.”

“Mr Rudgelow is stealing your silverware.” He blurted out, plucking the twisted thoughts of trepidation and avarice from the other room.

She blinked in alarm, “He’s what? I knew it, that...” She spun on her heel and marched off in the direction of her second cousin’s husband.

Elias took this as an opportunity to find Peter. He was smoking dangerously close to the Christmas tree, three other guests kept a wide berth, put off by the Captain’s glare.

“The library was empty.” He informed him.

Peter shrugged, “Can’t you just _know_ where the book is?”

Elias grimaced, “Their thoughts are so vile and overwhelming; every time I try I end up distracted by a new horror. Between Mr Aderage’s erectile dysfunction and Ms Heaths ‘comedic memoirs,’ I’m inclined to make my own statement at The Institute after being thoroughly traumatised.”

“We should check upstairs in the bedrooms,” Peter suggested, an offer that guaranteed less social interaction.

Elias shook his head, “I need someone to keep moth-Mrs Bouchard busy.”

Peter adjusted his cap so the brim cast a shadow over his eyes, “If you make me deal with her, I will _deal_ with her.”

“I need to maintain the fiction of a family.” Elias insisted, “You can’t get rid of all of them. Don’t think that I missed what you did to Jeremiah.”

Peter sighed and headed for the door to the main staircase, “You already have a family Elias.”

The Avatar of The Eye gazed at the Lonely Captain with a strange intensity. He probed at the outer edges of Peter’s mind, the familiar warm haze suffused his head as he Saw. “Oh.” He felt rather self-conscious now. “That’s uncharacteristically sweet of you.”

Peter flushed violently and turned his head away to fix his sight upon the angel pressed against the French Artisan wallpaper with suction cups. “I was simply referring to your voyeuristic relationship with The Eye.”

“Of course.” He reassured Peter dryly.

To their shared dismay, Mrs Bouchard was approaching them once more, clutching a pair of elegant spoons in her fist.

“Do something.” Elias hissed.

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment before a short flash of amusement crossed his face. “I’ve got it.” He adjusted his coat and squared his shoulders, emphasising the height difference between them. “Elias, you’ve embarrassed me at an annual dinner party for the last time. I want another divorce!”

Elias stared at him unbecomingly for a long moment, catching sight of Mrs Bouchard freezing in her tracks. “But we’re not ma- ...we div- ...” He pointed a finger at Peter, “You can’t divorce me, that’s my thing!” He insisted, bizarrely caught up in the charade.

Peter’s lengthy coat flared out behind him as he stalked towards the stairs followed by a half-aggravated, half-amused Elias.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Surprisingly, it didn’t take the two of them long to find the book. The fact that it was clutched in the hands of an extremely youthful Mr Bouchard towering over the withered husk of Candace Mayfair certainly helped a great deal.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” A no longer balding Mr Bouchard swore, his eyes darted back and forth between Elias and Peter, who hovered in the doorway. It was a rather grotesque sight, seeing a grey and shrivelled homunculus upon the bed, wail and clutch futilely at the man holding the Leitner.

“What do you bet, the title of this ridiculous book is?” Peter asked, ignoring the victim’s pitiful cries. “’ The Story of the Youth Stealer’?”

“'The Time Merchant’s Toll.’” Elias suggested in turn.

Ripping the book from the alarmed man, Peter gave it a cursory glance and promptly smacked Elias with it. “I told you not to cheat. You’re not winning the bet this time.”

“Please. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just curious.” Mr Bouchard sniffed as he recoiled from Candace’s reach.

“Maybe you could use it, Peter, you’re not as spry as you once were,” Elias bit back snidely.

“And you’re on what, body number twenty, you old fossil.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell Beatrice, she won’t be able to take it.” Mr Bouchard looked down at his unblemished hands, “I’m a monster.”

Turning his attention to the Bouchard patriarch briefly he absorbed all of the salient information regarding the effects of the book. “I’d ask how you acquired it but I don’t really care. If you want to babble inanely about your failings I suppose Gertrude could accommodate your statement, it would serve her right.”

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

“Have you seen your father?” Mrs Bouchard inquired as they both barely stepped foot into the conservatory. She was now wearing a paper hat, the same astonishing shade of pink as her hair.

“I have not.” Elias lied.

Upon finding her gaze upon him Peter curled closer into Elias’s personal space, “I don’t pay attention to the presence of others.”

She sniffed, “If he wants that Candace, I shan’t stop him. Between his womanising ways and Jeremiah’s ‘hotel,’ I’m glad I have one sensible family member since you did away with your nasty habit. I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.”

Peter felt the urge to dematerialise into The Lonely more keenly than ever, now that they had the book, surely Elias wouldn’t require his assistance any longer.

“Yes, yes. I am rather responsible.” He ignored the tail-end of her statement and caught Peter’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together gently he tugged him towards the front door. Peter smiled softly, more so at the prospect of leaving than Elias’s display of affection. “As delightful as this has all been, I am going to, as they say: _‘get high off my ass.’_ ”

Peter missed half a step and almost stumbled over in shock.

“But-but, Elias..” Mrs Bouchard whispered, both alarmed and angry.

“I’m afraid I will never be rid of my weed-partaking ways.” Elias concluded solemnly, “Farewell mother, I believe father has something he wishes to show you upstairs.”

Upon leaving the house, Peter took a long moment to savour the relative emptiness of the quiet driveway and lack of guests infesting his vision. He leaned against Elias for support, feeling overwhelmed.

“I’ve been thinking, we should get married again,” Peter commented nonchalantly.

Elias tilted his head and took in Peter’s oddly calm exterior. “Issuing a divorce and a marriage proposal on the same day. How unexpected.”

“It’s easier to tune your voice out in person than it is to ignore your messages blowing up my phone.” He replied coolly.

Elias laughed quietly, Peter dipped his head to allow him to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Let’s see how well you can ignore me when we get home.”

“I relish the challenge.” He paused and kissed Elias back with reverent tenderness, "I do so love you Li-Li."

Elias tore his face away from Peter with a scowl, "I reject your proposal."

"Don't be like that, my beloved Beholder." He crooned after Elias mockingly as his lover stalked away with as much dignity as he could manage.

On one hand, Elias had had a surprisingly enjoyable time with Peter; on the other, after enduring a great deal more drama than anticipated with the Bouchard family, he concluded that it wasn’t worth keeping Gertrude as an Archivist, he could build again. That woman was dead.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the real reason Gertrude had to die


End file.
